My secret was that I did it longer and harder than everybody else. And yes, that is what she said.
People like a mysterious explanation for somebody else's results. Talent. Luck. Some quality they themselves were apparently denied at birth.
I prefer to look at what the person actually did. How long did he work on it? How often did he practise? What did he change when he got something wrong?
In this early podcast, I broke my answer into three parts.
How much do you love it?
I couldn't stand seeing a beautiful woman and feeling unable to go over and speak to her. It bothered me. She was a human. I was a human. Why was talking to her such a bloody ordeal?
I wanted to solve that problem. And I wanted to have sex with women I found extremely attractive. There is no point dressing the motivation up as something else.
That desire kept me coming back when the process was frustrating. If you don't care much about the result, difficult work becomes very easy to postpone.
Ask yourself what you actually want to spend your time doing. A lot of people give prestige and other people's opinions enormous weight, then act as though their own time is practically worthless.
In the episode I describe leaving a well-paid job because the freedom mattered more to me. That was my choice. The useful question for you is what you are trading your time for, and whether you want the trade.
How hard do you work?
During my studies, I had afternoons available. I used that time to practise. In the recording I describe going out almost every day, approaching around 50 women a week and going on several dates a week over a sustained period.
I trained like a professional athlete. Then I would sit down with Tom Torero and discuss what had happened. He would tell me his experiences. I would tell him mine. We compared ideas, wrote things down and went back out.
That last part matters. I had somebody to review the work with and somebody who helped keep me accountable. If I knew Tom was out, it made staying at home harder to justify.
Compare that with approaching five women, changing nothing and waiting for a breakthrough. Why would the learning curve be the same?
Can you put your ego aside and clone?
When I saw somebody get a result I wanted, I wanted to know how he did it. I tried his ideas. If they worked for me, I used them.
I didn't need to pretend that every useful line or pattern had originated in my own head. That would have been an expensive way to protect my ego.
Cloning also meant changing things I found uncomfortable. In the episode I describe learning to use more comfort-trust and more of my humour, rather than relying entirely on an aggressive, escalating style. I had to calibrate. Simply doing my preferred thing harder would have kept the same weakness in place.
You can give a guy a system and watch him change it before he has even tried it. Then he tells you the system doesn't work. What exactly did he test?
Learn what an experienced person is doing. Apply it carefully. Review the result. You can develop your own ideas from experience instead of requiring originality on day one.
Stop paying for the same mistake
Hard work by itself can still repeat a mistake for years. Studying without practice can keep you impressively informed and completely stuck. And neither lasts very long if you don't care about the goal.
The three parts belong together. Love the pursuit enough to continue. Put in the time. Use what others have already learned, and correct what your own experience shows you.
Those are the ideas behind this episode and much of the wider work in Universal Laws. They ask more of you than finding another motivational clip. That is also why they are useful.
